


The Instincts

by dralexreid



Series: Dr Piper Bishop [24]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27053527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid
Relationships: Dr Spencer Reid/Dr Piper Bishop
Series: Dr Piper Bishop [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972852
Kudos: 27





	1. Prologue

Piper had been trying to sleep for the past 3 hours. Her body had finally recovered, but if she didn’t get some sleep soon, she’d faint. It wasn’t like she meant to wreck her body like this, but she wasn’t sure she could take much more pain. That’s how she found herself wrapped in a black grid-patterned shawl, sipping a cup of tea on the fire escape outside her bedroom window. Against her better judgement, she called Spencer. The cell rang twice before he picked up. “ _Pipes…it is 3 am…are you okay?’_ Even half asleep and drowsy, Spencer’s voice dripped with concern.

“I uh…I can’t sleep.” Silence. “Haven’t…for about 4 days. I feel like I’m going crazy. Do you... I mean, would you…”

“ _Yes, Pipes, you can come over.”_ Piper smiled.

“I’ll be there in 15.”

_“I will probably be asleep so let yourself in.”_

Excited for no real reason, Piper grabbed her comfiest jumper and her bike keys. In minutes, she was already inside his apartment which was an absolute mess. She dropped her keys in the dish on his bookshelf. Spencer was snoring softly on the couch, still wearing his work clothes, a Chaucer book on the floor. Gently picking it up, she started cleaning up. Spencer awoke to the sound of running water and almost didn’t recognise his apartment. Rubbing his eyes, he reached for the glasses he’d left on the table, only to see the table immaculately kept. He switched the lamp on and thought he’d been dropped in an alternate universe. The armchair he used as a coat hanger had a throw on it and a plush cushion. His bookshelf was ordered alphabetically. He sighed, pushing himself off the couch, moving towards the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around Piper. “Spence, I’m cleaning.”

“Stop. No-one should be cleaning at 3:30.” His voice was drowsy, heavy with sleep.

“It’s 4:30, go back to sleep.”

“I will drag you to sleep if I must.” Despite her protests, he dumped her on the queen-sized bed. “Sleep, that’s an order.”

“Or what?” She giggled.

“I will sic Garcia on you.”

“No, please, mercy!”

“Very well.” Piper felt her eyelids droop. Before she knew it, she was fast asleep, Spencer watching her snore lightly in the armchair. His eyelids started to droop but fluttered awake at Piper’s sobs.

“No, not him. Please… Take me in… No!” She bolted upright, hand reaching out. Spencer launched himself on the bed, wrapping her up. “No…” She sobbed into his chest.

“I’m here, Pipes, I’m right here. They can’t hurt you anymore.” They fell asleep like that, tangled between each other. 

Piper lifted herself off of Spencer, stumbling towards the kitchen to make coffee. She pulled open the cupboard only to see her favourite black tea powder with a small recipe card stuck to it. It was scribbled in Spencer’s scraggly handwriting and smiled at the little flower he’d drawn next to her name at the bottom. She ritually set the water to boil for two with 3 teaspoons sugar and a little grated ginger. Once it started nearly boiling, she put in 2 teaspoons of the black tea powder, then adding milk when the powder settled at the bottom. With a practised flourish, she poured two mugs of tea and turned around to see him right behind her. Grinning, she passed him the Tardis mug. “Doctor.”

“I wish I was that kind of doctor.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to wear a cardigan or have long hair.” She was about to walk away when she doubled back. “Is that why you grow out your hair?” Spencer stuck out his bottom lip. 

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “You gonna shower?”

“I always shower at night. Saves time in the morning for work. Not that I need it usually.” Spencer’s phone buzzed. “Speak of the devil.” He smirked, but it quickly faded. “We have a case.”

“That’s not new. Why the long face?”

“It’s in Vegas.”


	2. Part 1

It was too late to catch the train, so they used Piper’s bike. The whole drive, Piper acted like the night before hadn’t happened. Instead, she complained about how far he lived from the office. They finally pulled into the parking lot of the Quantico complex. There was a missing kid in Vegas and they didn’t have time so they planned to brief on the jet. Spencer noticed how different Piper acted with the rest of the team. Stronger. Braver. Not the woman who bared her soul to him at 3 in the morning. Not the woman who cleaned his apartment so she wouldn’t have to see the nightmares. He hadn’t slept quite right, so when he was the first on the jet, he fell asleep, case file in hand.

Spencer, Piper and Hotch stormed the house, guns up. They’d narrowed down the unsub to this house and searched the house in fluid formation. Spencer led the team down to the basement, then stepped aside as Piper moved ahead, letting out a wail at the little 6-year-old boy that lay on the tiled floor. _Are you sure it’s him?_ She just nodded silently, crying. Spencer heard the laughter of a baby and whirled around. _A baby? JJ can’t let her baby be at a crime scene._

 _Spence. Spence! “_ Spencer!” He jolted awake as the rest of the team stared at him.

“Sorry, sorry. I was uh…”

“Asleep?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Here,” Piper chuckled, handing him a cup of coffee before taking her usual seat beside him.

“We found a 6-year-old boy who had been abused and stabbed. Your baby was at the crime scene,” he nodded to JJ. “I was trying to get him out of there. Sorry.” 

“It’s ok,” Emily’s smile faded. 

“You know, Reid, simple dream analysis… If there’s a baby in your dreams, that baby’s actually you,” Morgan prompted.

“Jung suggested the role of dreams is to lead a person to self-realisation through what he called a dialogue between the ego and the self,” Piper explained. “The self aspires to tell the ego what it does not know, but it should.”

“That means…” JJ asked.

“Umm… the ego is how we perceive the self. So the self is trying to converse with the ego.” She still caught blank stares. “His brain is trying to tell him something.”

“Well, just say that next time,” Emily joked.

“Oh, if I didn’t have a hot cup of coffee in my hand, I would–”

“Whatever, I don’t believe in dream analysis,” Reid interrupted before things got violent.

“I don’t know,” Hotch remarked. “It makes sense. The case we’re working on and the case in your dream both involve children. Maybe your subconscious is telling you you want to sit this one out.” 

“I don’t.” 

“Well, maybe you’re just stressed out about going home to Las Vegas. Have you told your mom you’re coming?” Piper caught the question before he could retort.

“Guys, kid missing? We can analyse Spencer’s dreams later.”

Ethan Hayes was 5. 2 weeks ago, he was abducted out of his own front yard. His mom just ran inside to grab her purse. When she came back, he was gone. Police found his body exactly one week later in the desert. He was in a new change of clothes. His nails clipped. His hair was combed.

“There’s no sexual assault, a lot of remorse, and waited exactly a week. Why?” Rossi posed.

“Could be the unsub viewed the death as merciful,” Hotch suggested. “They did smother him.”

“They took care of him,” Piper pointed out. “I mean, apart from the death bit. It looks like he just fell asleep in the desert.”

“Who’s the new boy?” 

“Michael Bridges. Yesterday, he set out to walk by himself to a friend’s house a block away. He never showed up. The unsub called each of the families. But no ransom demand. It was more like taunts. He’s telling them it’s their fault that their child was taken.”

“So, we have an unsub who shows remorse and then projects his guilt onto the victims’ parents,” Morgan summed up.

“And if we’re lucky, 6 more days to find a boy before he’s killed,” Hotch murmured darkly. “We’ll hit the ground running. Bishop, Reid, go to the ME. JJ, we’ll visit the families. Derek, work on victimology. Prentiss, you and Dave go to the disposal site. We’ll meet back at the precinct in an hour.” The team ebbed away from the middle of the jet. 

Piper nudged Spencer with her foot. “Are you gonna see your mom?”

“Depends. You gonna tell me what your nightmares are about?” Piper glanced back at the team. “That’s what I thought.” Spencer slammed his file shut and moved to sit next to Morgan. Piper rubbed her face with her hands, then lay down on the couch, going through the file.

Piper lugged her go-bag into the SUV and she got in beside him. “They’re about you. But they’re different every time,” Piper stared out the window. “The first ones were after Hankel. I didn’t say anything ‘cause at first, they weren’t as frequent, but now it’s every time I close my eyes. It’s…It’s like Groundhog Day.” Piper picked at her nails. “I kept reliving it until I started writing in my journals. If it was poison, I’d look up antidotes. If it was a stab wound, anything. And the more cases we see, the more creative my subconscious gets. It’s like my brain’s trying to convince me that no matter what happens…no matter how much I learn or read or research or how many degrees I get…” She closed her eyes and breathed out. “I’m never going to be able to save you.” She sighed, leaning her head against the headrest. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to know that.”

“So, when we were at that ranch–”

“It was like my nightmare realised. So, we cool?” Piper tilted her head at him, pouting.

“How can I say no?”

“So, you aren’t visiting your mom?” Spencer was silent. Piper just bobbed her head. “Ya know, we never did go to that haunted house in Denver?”

“We didn’t see those caves either.”

“Hold up. You were gonna come with me? Huh.”

“Wha– Why, didn’t you want me there?”

“Let me put it this way. When I asked Luce to come away with me to see them, she laughed and said ‘there are 12 amusement parks in Colorado and you want to see historical ruins?’ So I didn’t expect anyone to really be that…excited. Then again, you aren’t just anyone,” she murmured.

“Really?” _Shit. I forgot you have bat hearing._ “Who am I then?”

“Doctor Spencer Walter Reid, with 3 PhDs in topics I can’t pronounce, eidetic memory and an IQ of 187 and yet still, somehow dumb as a bag of bricks.” He pouted and she ruffled his hair, laughing.

At the ME’s office, Piper snapped on the medical gloves, goofily smirking, as the examiner pulled out the body. “There was no bruising around his neck or face. I’m guessing he used a pillow,” the examiner stated, ignoring Piper. 

“Was there any sign of a struggle?” Spencer asked him.

“No, but he would have been extremely weak.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“This is where it gets weird. He was noticeably thin. And both his stomach and intestines were completely empty.” 

“He was being starved?” 

“It seems that way.” 

“So, what’s the weirder part?” Piper asked.

“I wanted to determine if malnutrition played a part in his death. So, I looked for evidence of starvation ketosis by analysing some vitreous humour…” The examiner noticed Piper’s blank stare. “The squishy part of the eyeball… and I couldn’t find any ketone bodies there.” 

“Meaning?” 

“He was getting nutrients somehow,” Spencer looked puzzled. 

“Through an IV?” 

“There were no marks to indicate that,” the examiner filled in. 

“Any idea what else could it be?” 

“Honestly, I have no idea.”

On the drive back to the precinct, Piper and Spencer discussed the effect the findings had on the profile. “So we know the unsub’s remorseful but they’re starving them too?”

“Not necessarily.” Piper thought aloud. “He has to be getting nutrients somehow. What if the kid was being force-fed tablets or something? It’s not exactly food, would it show up in an exam?”

“I don’t think so.”

Rossi and Emily stepped out of their SUVs, grumbling at the sight of the unkempt disposal site. “It’s those damned crime scene investigators. They all want to play cop instead of just being scientists and they end up trampling on everything,” Emily groused to Rossi as they slipped down to the dusty disposal site. 

“So, he suffocates the boy at another location, prepares the body, takes him out to the middle of nowhere and dumps him.” 

“Except there were no traces of the unsub’s sweat on the boy’s clothing.” 

“What are you getting at?” 

“Well, it’s like 1,000 degrees out here. If he carried the body, then he would have gotten traces of sweat on the clothes.” 

“So, he wraps him in something.” 

“No fibres.” 

“So, he took the time to change the boy’s clothing and groom him once he got here.” Rossi glanced back up the way they came. “If he took that much time, he’d have to do it at night.” 

“But you still run the risk of someone recalling your car once the body’s found.” 

“Not if you didn’t have to park it by the road.” 

“Well, you’d want to park a distance away from the dumpsite just in case someone saw the car and came to see what you were up to,” Emily suggested, pointing to the tire tracks leading away. “If you _can_ drive out into the desert to dump a body, why not go in deeper, where you won’t be seen from the road?” 

“Because he wanted to be able to drive by and see the body.” 

“That’s why he groomed him. It’s like he was preparing him for a funeral.” Rossi pulled out his cell, updating Hotch on their find.


	3. Part 2

JJ waddled up the steps to the house and knocked gently on Mrs Bridges’ door and walked in. Mrs Bridges sat forlornly on her son’s bed, fingers wrapped around a partly eaten candy bar. “When the police asked for a picture of Michael, I couldn’t decide what to give them. I didn’t know if it was right for him to be smiling.“

"Any choice you made would have been right,” JJ said as she lowered herself onto the bed.

“My husband doesn’t know what to do with himself. He thinks we should be out there looking for him.”

“The best thing for you right now is to just let us guide you through this.”

“He thinks I blame him.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“He’s right. My son has been taken. I’m completely frozen. And now I’m blaming my husband. I feel like a monster.”

“When they need you, you’ll come through.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Call it intuition.”

Mrs Bridges lifted her son’s pillow, revealing a candy bar. “I found it when I came into his room after he’d been taken. We don’t let him eat in bed,” she explained. “I haven’t moved it because… I don’t want him to think he’s in trouble for breaking the rules.” The woman sighed, fatigue adorning her face in wrinkles and age. “You know what you’re having?”

“It’s… it’s a boy.”

“Congratulations.” Her voice wavered and JJ slowly waddled away, a hand on her belly.

In the living room, Hotch called Reid and Bishop, instructing them to come to the house just as the landline rang. He hung up, moving over to Mr Bridges. “Mr Bridges, let’s go back over what we discussed. Just stay positive. I’ve written down some important phrases…”

“We need to answer the phone,” the father insisted.

“Mr Bridges, please.”

“Hotch, I think Amy should do this,” JJ voiced.

“She doesn’t want to do this,” Mr Bridges spoke, an edge of frustration interlaced in his voice.

“No. I-I don’t,” Mrs Bridges stammered.

“It’s our experience that the parent that’s least emotional is best,” JJ explained.

“Amy, you’ll be great,” Hotch said as he pulled her over to the phone. “Just try to humanise Michael at every opportunity. He needs to see him as a person. Try to keep him on the line as long as you possibly can. The more he talks, the more he’ll reveal about himself.”

_“Hello. Are you alone?”_

“Um, my husband is with me.”

_“Why are you just sitting at home when you should be out looking for your boy?”_

“You’re right. We need to do that.”

_“He’s better off with me.”_

“Thank you for calling us to let us know Michael’s all right.”

_“I didn’t say he was all right.”_

“I know. I’m… I’m just trusting that he’s okay.”

_“He’s in a better place now.”_

“May I speak with Michael?”

 _“He doesn’t want to talk to you. He knows what a bad mother you are. Your 3 minutes are up.”_ The line cut as Piper and Spencer walked in. Hotch dialled Garcia who couldn’t triangulate the call.

“But it did bounce off not one but 2 towers.”

“Meaning?”

“He’s mobile and he’s operating within Las Vegas city limits.”

 _“_ Thanks, Garcia.” He introduces the parents to Reid and Bishop. “They’ll be here all night just in case he calls back.” He waited for them to be out of earshot before he continued. “What did you find?”

“We think the unsub is starving them of food but giving them nutrients so they’re healthy.”

“That doesn’t fit the profile.”

“We called Morgan; he figured that starvation would be a form of torture. Since there’s no sexual assault, the torture could be a substitute for the sex act.”

“I’ll coordinate with Rossi and Prentiss. We’ll call if anything pops up.”

That night, Spencer and Piper agreed to take shifts staying awake. Piper’s was first, so she sat next to the lampshade perusing the file as Spencer slept on the sofa she leaned on. They were missing something. _He abducts the child, keeps them for 6 days, starving them but keeping them healthy, then smothered them._ What was it about the smothering she didn’t understand? It was as though he didn’t want to kill them. “It’s an urge,” she whispered. A few minutes after that, her eyes fluttered shut and she dozed off until she heard Spencer yelling behind her.

“Get ‘em off. Piper! Get 'em off! Get 'em off! Piper get 'em off me! Get 'em off me! Get 'em off me!” She let the files fall off her lap to the floor and gripped Spencer’s arm.

“Spencer! Hey, hey, hey. I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Spencer!” He got up, slowly.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Relax. Here,” she offered him a bottle of water from her bag.

“What the hell’s going on?” _Shit._ Piper got up and walked over to the banister where Mr and Mrs Bridges stood.

“Sir, ma’am, everything is fine. My partner just had a scare.”

“You’re the FBI.”

“You’re right." Spencer's voice was apologetic. I’m–” Piper’s glare cut him off.

“Yes, sir, we’re in the FBI as part of the Behavioural Analysis Unit. We work with serial killers and other heinous crimes no-one should have to deal with. My partner just had a scare but believe me when I say nothing is wrong. Please, go back upstairs and get some rest.” The two of them turned back and went to bed and Piper sighed, rubbing her face. She turned back over and sat next to Reid. “You okay?” He shook his head.

“I’m making everything worse.”

“Spence. Listen to me. You couldn’t make this worse even if you tried. We’re gonna figure this out. Just like we always do.”

“I’m losing it in their living room, Pipes. And I’m dreaming… I’m dreaming about dead kids and being covered in leeches.” Piper rubbed circles on his back slowly.

“Okay. I want you to lie down and close your eyes. Walk me through the dream.” He obliged her, holding hands. “Baby steps.”

“There’s a hallway. We walk through. There’s a– a basement. I’m opening the door. Down the stairs. There’s a pair of shoes, Converses. There’s the boy.”

“Can you see his face, Spence?”

“No. Just his feet. He’s behind a fridge. There’s something on my chest.”

“Spencer, wake up.” She helped him slowly sit upright. “Look, I know you don’t believe in dream analysis. Fine, it doesn’t matter. But professionally, I think your mind is repressing an old memory. And I think this case is triggering that mental block.”

“So, what do I do?”

“Hypnotherapy’s had remarkable results. There is ayahuasca treatment, but I doubt getting high is gonna fix anything. But for now, you need rest.”

“But–” She shushed him.

“You’ve read Arthur Conan Doyle, I presume. May I present Mrs Marple?” She pulled out the little hardcover for him. “Relax. Get some sleep.” She yawned. “We have the funeral tomorrow.”

In the morning, Piper cleaned up the files and remnants of last night as Morgan delivered the profile to the parents. She ran up the steps to find Spencer. “Knock, knock.” She giggled as he fumbled with his tie. “May I?” She asked, stepping forward. She straightened the silky fabric and, with a dramatic flourish, nimbly knotted a full Windsor.

“You’re good at this.” She shrugged as she pushed him away from the mirror, smoothing down her black gridded top. “You look nice,” he murmured to her, surveying her outfit. He couldn’t help noticing how the simple top tucked into grey trousers tied into a tight bow hugged her figure, the drop earrings highlighting her delicate features.

“I never know what to do with myself at funerals.”

“What do you mean?” He shook himself, paying attention to her words, his eyes glancing over her jaw to her dark brown eyes.

“You can’t look too nice and put together, but you can’t look like a mess. You can’t cry and take away from the focus, but you can’t seem too heartless or jovial either. I just feel like I’m walking on a tightrope at these things.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Piper smiled at him.

“You ready?”

A sea of black gathered around the polished ebony coffin, the only colour at the event were the flowers deposited lovingly by the mourners. Piper folded her hands as she imperceptible scanned the attendants, the profile echoing in her brain. Yet, she sensed something still troubling Spencer.

He gazed dazedly at the coffin. As he regarded the polished coffin, he saw it open softly and a little boy sat up, rubbing one eye. His head turned to survey Spencer before he asked him, “Why aren’t you helping me?” His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes fluttered up to see himself as a six-year-old wearing a grey suit and little tortoise-shell glasses, a hand firm on his shoulder. He saw his mother’s doting eyes harden as she told him to pay attention. Spencer blinked and he returned to the service, the coffin sealed shut, his mother nowhere to be seen.

“Spence, you okay?” Piper whispered to him. He nodded slowly and Piper stepped back from in front of him to hugging his arm, squeezing gently. She felt him relax under her touch, ignoring Emily’s raised eyebrows and her whisperings to Derek. _Later,_ she told herself, _I’ll deal with them later._ Spencer was more important.

“I’ve been here before,” he murmured to Piper. She looked at him, forehead wrinkled but turned back to the service, trusting he’d explain himself later.

The service was over, and Rossi had apprehended a potential suspect. Emily had abandoned his grey suit jacket in the glassed room and accompanied Rossi to the adjoined interrogation room. Piper was perched on a table, swiping the curly stray hair from her face. She watched Emily settle herself on the table where their suspect was seated and Rossi leaning on the wall, observing intently.

 _“Where were you on the days Ethan Hayes and Michael Bridges were abducted?”_ Emily asked him, perusing her file.

_“I was home.”_

_“Don’t you need to ask what days those were?”_

_“Am I under arrest?”_

_“No. You love kids.”_ Rossi spoke sardonically.

 _“You’re just helping us with an investigation,”_ Emily added.

_“So, you have no right to search me.”_

_“Why? What would we find?”_ Emily asked innocently

 _“Oh, do you like videotaping other things besides funerals?”_ Rossi pushed himself off the wall as he asked facetiously. Piper pushed up the sleeves of her thick top to her elbow as Derek and Spencer entered the room.

“How’s it going?” Derek asked her, moving to the glass.

“He’s getting nervous. Emily and I have a bet on whether she can crack him.”

“And you didn’t include me? I’m hurt.” Piper chuckled.

“If she doesn’t crack him, she has to bring me coffee for a month.”

“And if she does?”

“I do her paperwork for a month. Rossi better up his game.” Derek’s cell buzzed and he left to take the call. Spencer and Piper watched them in silence for a few minutes until Piper pulled a file out of her laptop bag. “Is Riley Jenkins a familiar name?” Spencer glanced back at her and the file in her hand.

“No, why? He relevant to the case?”

“No. I think he might be the boy you keep dreaming about.”

“I don’t even know him.”

“I didn’t think you would. Remember what I said about Jung?”

“The role of dreams is to lead a person to self-realisation through what he called a dialogue between the ego and the self. The self aspires to tell the ego what it does not know, but it should.” He recited verbatim and Piper chuckled at his echoic memory. “You think my subconscious is trying to tell me something?”

“That’s my theory. Just look through the file. It could kickstart something.” She gave him a forced smile before she zipped her bag shut, then observed the interrogation unfolding in front of her. “C’mon Rossi.” She murmured, praying she didn’t have to do double her paperwork.

“Why are you doing this?”

“The bet? Cause the smell of free coffee is better than any tea I could ever make.” She beamed, but Spencer just smiled weakly.

“No, helping me.” Piper mulled it over.

“Same reason I went from an accredited psychiatrist to a history teacher. I care about people. I care about you.” Before Spencer could respond, Rossi’s voice grew louder.

 _“You killed Ethan Hayes, and you’re holding Michael Bridges.”_ The suspect grew flustered, his hand rising to wipe the grimy sweat off his bald head.

_“No.”_

_“Then why were you videotaping a funeral? Does death excite you?”_ Rossi fired and Piper grew anxious, groaning when Emily stepped in.

_“Oh, wait. That’s it. Death gets you off.”_

_“I told you, I don’t touch.”_

_“No. You just kill 'em and find new ways to watch him afterwards.”_

_“I am not sick.”_

_“I think you are.”_ Emily railed against him. _“And I think you desperately want to tell us exactly how sick you really are, Walter? Don’t you? You want us to search your computer and your home because this is eating you up inside and you know you need to be stopped.”_

_“I never would have molested that boy!”_

“Shit. She’s gonna be unbearable now.” Piper exhaled irritably, pulling out her cell to call Hotch. “Yeah Hotch, he doesn’t know the details of the murder…He assumed the boy was molested…Okay.” She flipped the cell shut and slipped it in her pocket. “The unsub was at the funeral, they saw us there and we missed them,” she reported before walking out, slamming the door behind her.

Piper kept pacing in the room, listening over and over to the recording. The taunts. The remorse. The anger. She stopped abruptly, back to the door that Rossi walked through. “Spencer told me—”

“Our profile’s wrong. Rossi, it’s all wrong.”

“Piper—”

“No, listen. The unsub finds tiny flaws in parental responsibility and then overinflates the issue, calling them names and taunts, right? Then, the unsub keeps the child for exactly a week. There’s no sign of torture, he’s taken care of.”

“Except for the starvation.”

“But he somehow still has his nutrients. My first instinct was tablets, but 6-year-olds can’t take tablets. So, I started thinking, how is this kid getting nutrients? On top of that, there’s this new recording.”

_‘You were trying to trick me…I loved him. His parents didn’t deserve him. I took good care of him…They put him in those silly blue sneakers and lime green oxford. He hated those… She knows he sleeps better with me.’_

“It doesn’t fit the profile,” Rossi remarked. “No man would describe clothes in that kind of detail.”

“Right, and if we’re dealing with a female unsub, the starvation makes sense. She isn’t giving them food, she’s breastfeeding them. It’s the only explanation I can think of.”

“But why steal these kids? A female would kidnap a newborn, not a 6-year-old.” Rossi asked her as the team walked in, listening to the conversing voices.

“Maybe the urge is just that powerful. She sees a kid unattended and she can’t stop herself. She has to take care of them. In which case, she probably lost her own child. We need to see Social Services records from about 6 years ago.”

“There’s something else bugging me,” Spencer interrupted. “The transcript almost reads like she’s been institutionalized. She described herself as being "locked down,” not “arrested” or “put away.” Plus, most mental facilities are very rigid about the amount of phone time they allow per day. I think her talking about only having 3 minutes isn’t her rule to us. It’s what she’s been institutionalized to think of as normal.”

“We should get records of women released from mental institutions this past month,” Hotch pulled out his cell but Piper just shook her head.

“To protect patient privilege there’s no central database and even then, most diagnoses are kept separately by the different doctors,” Piper explained.

“I might have a way,” Spencer murmured, nodded to Hotch then slipped out. Derek was clearly confused and lightly worried about the kid but settled down in his seat as Piper followed him.

“Spencer, wait.” Piper ran up to him before he got into the SUV. “I’m coming with you.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“I mean, no. Look, Piper, thank you, really, for everything. But I need to do this on my own.”

“Is this about Riley?”

“Jesus, Piper. Just back off, okay?” Spencer lashed out at her, regretting his biting words as they spilled out. But it was too late, he already saw hurt flash on her face. Piper breathed in deeply before nodding and stepping back. She watched him duck his head into the SUV and drive off and she didn’t go back inside until his car drove off the horizon. She jammed her hands into her trouser pockets and went back in.

Spencer drove the path to the institution he knew like the words to his mother’s favourite Bob Dylan songs. As he tapped his foot in the lobby, his eyes flitted over to short blonde hair in a flowery armchair, smiling at the sight of his mother until the doctor that he was waiting for bobbed into his line of sight. “Dr Reid. Your mom didn’t tell me you were in town.”

“She doesn’t know I’m here. I’m working on a case. And I actually thought you might be able to help us.”

“Of course.”

“You’ve read about the recent child murder and second abduction?”

“Yes.”

“We think the person responsible is a woman. She would have been institutionalised. But we believe she may have been released within the past few weeks, just before the first abduction.”

“What can I do?”

“I’m assuming you have a good working relationship with the administrators at other hospitals. I know no one can open their files. But if you wouldn’t mind just giving them the profile, that would be a tremendous help. She’s delusional. Fuelled by grief. Very well might have lost a child of her own, probably around the age of 5.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” The doctors smiled at each other and as one walked off with a file in hand, the other slowly walked in the direction of his mother. He stood in front of her, patiently, hoping today would be a good day. Her eyes glanced up at the tall, lanky doctor, studying his handsome face. Her lips morphed into a beaming smile as she called out her son’s name.

“Hi, Mom.” Spencer sat down next to her.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for work.”

“We’re investigating the murder and abduction of two 5-year-old boys.”

“I don’t like the idea of you working on things that are so sad,” his mother whined softly.

“I know.”

“You’re so thin.”

“I was going to come to see you the second we solved the case.”

“What else is going on in there?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to your mother, Spencer. We know. We feel things,” she whispered to him, as though she was telling him a secret.

“Did I know a boy named Riley Jenkins?”

“Riley Jenkins… He was a story you made up.”

“No. No. He was a real kid who was murdered when I was 4 years old.”

“Oh, I think you’re mistaken.”

“I’ve been seeing things.”

“Don’t say that,” his mother leaned in, glancing back at the receptionist who she swore was staring at them.

“I’ve been having dreams about his death since I was little, Mom.”

“You were always a reader. It affected your dreams.”

“I remember, when I was 4, we went to a funeral.”

“Your uncle Daniel’s, maybe?”

“I also remember we moved houses. And you and dad argued about it. And you told dad that I was in danger.”

“Because you were.”

“Why… why did you think that?”

“I don’t know. I just knew. I told you. A mother knows. We’re animals, Spencer. We feel things.” She leaned back into her chair as the doctor approached them.

“I’m sorry. I talked to the heads of 9 different hospitals. There’s no one who matches your description.

“Thank you for trying.”

“You know, if this person has an Axis-1 condition, her release wouldn’t be as important as whether or not she keeps to her medications.”

“All right. Thank you. Again, thank you very much.” Spencer took back the file from the doctor’s outstretched hand and as he walked off, his mind flitted back to what he’d said to Piper. He hadn’t completely made up his mind on whether he wanted her involved in his tangled mess, but he was determined to make it up to her.

He walked back into the precinct; his team all scattered. The only person to be found was Piper, as always near their profile board. Except she was biting her nails, on the phone with someone. Before he could begin, Piper rattled off where everyone was. “JJ and Hotch are with the Bridges’, Derek and Rossi are getting lunch and Emily’s revisiting the crime scene. Sorry,” she murmured, turning back to the cell. “Yeah, Garcia…still here…mmhmm…” she confessed as she ran a hand through her hair then scrambled to find a pen. As she scribbled down the name of their unsub, Piper wrinkled her nose. “As in she just bit it off?… oh, only some of it, right, that makes it all okay…Jesus. No, they’re all scattered but Reid’s with me now…Bye.” She dropped her cell on the table and ran off to the fax machine. Spencer sat in a wheelie chair, spinning as he mulled over the profile. Not for long though, as instantly her cell buzzed. _Lisbon_. _Right. Her boyfriend from Florida._ Sighing, he looked for Piper, but she tapped her foot, glaring at the little fax. Unthinking, he picked up the cell and raised it to his ear but before he could declare himself, a string of curse words flew into his ear.

_“I called you 7 times. It’s no wonder everyone says you’re a jerk._ _Let me see if I can put this in simple terms that even you can understand. If I call, you pick up like a good little girl. Before I came along you were nothing. Without me, you’ll be nothing again. You want to break up? Fine. But don’t come crawling back to me when—”_

“Sorry, this is Dr Spencer Reid with the FBI and if I ever see you anywhere near Piper, you’ll have to deal with the full strength of the Behavioural Analysis Unit. And as for nothing, Dr Piper Bishop is a Harvard graduate, you’re a detective. She has 4 PhDs and she’s working for the FBI. You work for a local police department in Florida. I’m not sure you can spell the word qualified.” He clicked the phone shut and looked up to see Piper standing in the doorway and as he opened his mouth, she walked past him to the board, silently pinning up a new picture. “Who’s that?” Piper didn’t bother to respond, throwing a file onto the oak table instead. “Look, Pipes. About before—”

“Hotch!” She called out to the boss and the rest of her team walking in. “Garcia let me know what you guys found out. Claire was institutionalised 3 years ago after she bit a fellow secretary’s ear at a law firm. No last known address. The license plate is registered to her father. He lived in Reno, but he died 2 years ago. Gave birth to a son 3 weeks ago. Social services removed the baby from her care after a 7-day evaluation. That’s why she holds the boys for 7 days. She’s recreating the loss of her baby.”

“But she’s taking 5- year-olds.”

“Her psychosis must be projecting her baby onto any children she can get access to,” Spencer added, noticing how Piper refused to look at him.

“Can you read us the social services report?”

> “While it is admirable that patient stayed off anti-psychotic medication for the health of her foetus, we strongly believe that due to a history of violent and delusional behaviour, there is a significant risk to the child if she is granted guardianship. Therefore, the child shall be a ward of the state until such time a full-time guardian can be established.”

“Is there an address?”

“2509 Brookside Avenue.”

The team rushed to the two SUVs grabbing their vests and handguns. Just as Emily finished tightening her straps, they pulled to a stop. Derek pulled his gun out and Rossi flanked him as Hotch flanked Emily. He led the group to the large house, ordering Derek and Rossi to go around the back as they took the front. Rossi and Derek skirted around the edges of the house and Emily slowly unlocked the door, Hotch holding his gun up. Rossi heard Hotch’s voice through the radio, made eye contact with Derek before sprinting down the edge of the house to the garage. The 4 agents spread around the fire; guns still raised to the woman. They faintly heard the sound of Piper and Spencer’s SUV rolling up to the house. Spencer and Piper sprinted towards the house and she flanked his right as they searched through the house. Outside, Emily murmured to Hotch. “Something isn’t right. Claire never burnt the children, she smothered them.”

“Until we know for sure, we stay put.”

Piper nudged Spencer, motioning toward the white door at the end of the hallway and they edged their way over. She edged over to the door, hand gently holding the doorknob. _1…2…3._ She pushed the door open and they barged in, only to see a little blond boy staring at them. As Spencer moved to pick him up, Piper radioed the team in relief. “We have him. We have Michael.” She sagged against the door as the little boy ran to hold Spencer, observing adoringly as Spencer hugged the little boy, whispering encouragements in his ear. She moved aside as he picked up the child effortlessly and they sat him down in the ambulance, waiting patiently for the rest of the team.

“You’re mad at me.”

“No. I’m not.”

“Pipes—”

“I get it. You need space. Message received.” She observed, smiling softly as the little boy ran to his mother.

“No. I don’t need space.” He swallowed hard as Piper tilted her head at him. “I didn’t mean any of it. I just…” He took a deep breath. “I didn’t want you to see my mom.” Her hand moved to touch his arm.

“Spence, why?”

“I dunno. I mean, you of all people would understand. I guess I was just afraid.” Piper nodded, swiping her lips with her tongue.

“Okay. Well, whenever you’d like me to meet her, I’d be up for it, always. And, uh, as for Riley, I’m here for you, whether you want to investigate or not.” She smiled as Hotch walked up to them, praising their work.

“Hey, Hotch. You think we could wait until the morning to go back?” Hotch thought about the request before turning around and calling out to Derek.

“You think you can find something to do in Vegas on a Saturday night?” Derek simply beamed at Hotch and Piper snickered.

“That man could find something to do in Vegas even if he was blindfolded and drunk,” she joked and Hotch threw her a rare smile. She almost followed Hotch to the SUVs until Reid offered for her to meet his mother. Piper beamed at him. “Can we hit the hotel first? I need to get something.”


	4. Epilogue

Spencer waited in the lobby as Piper ran up, excited to meet his mom. Pushing the door open, she surveyed the room to find what she was looking for. Eagerly, she grabbed it before taking the stairs two at a time to the lobby. “Ready!” Piper beamed at Spencer and they left, trailing the path he had taken only hours before. Piper leaned back in the plush leather seat, gazing out the window as Spencer drove.

“You aren’t nervous?”

“Should I be?”

“My mom’s a paranoid schizophrenic. I just do—”

“Spence, I’m not afraid. I trust your instincts, but please, trust mine. I know your mom is gonna be the best person I’m ever going to meet. You know why?” Spencer turned his head to hers expectantly. “Because any woman that raised you has got to be the most kind and beautiful soul on the planet.” Spencer smiled softly and turned back to the road. 

After passing the security clearance, they waited in the lobby and Piper smiled awkwardly at the receptionist who clearly didn’t want to be manning the polished wooden desk. Spencer tapped his foot incessantly until the doctor showed up, ushering them into the main lounge. Dr Norman led the two of them to a blonde woman reading in a flowery armchair. Before Spencer could utter a word, she started speaking without looking up.

“I’m proud of you, Spencer.”

“For what?”

“Saving that boy.”

“How’d you know?”

“I told you. A mother knows.” She closed her book and looked her son up and down. “You’re so thin. It’s the coffee. I’ve told you so many times, Spencer.” Piper chuckled besides Spencer.

“He doesn’t like listening to anyone when it comes to coffee. At this point he’s probably 95% coffee than water,” Piper joked, and Diana just smiled briefly.

“Mom, this is my friend, Piper. She works with me.” Piper held out her hand cheerfully and Diana took it. The three of them sat for hours talking about history, literature and Spencer.

“Hold on. You memorised Beowulf at 7? I hadn’t even started reading autobiographies yet,” Piper giggled, shoving Spencer softly as he whined to his mother, secretly pleased they were getting along. Except it was all cut short by Piper’s cell. “Sorry, it’s Lucy. Back in a sec.” Piper walked off, animatedly chatting with her sister on the phone.

“She’s a good girl, Spencer,” she leaned forward, whispering. “Don’t let her go,” she tapped him on the nose and leaned back in her chair.

“What are you talking about?”

“Like I said, a mother knows.” Spencer looked up as Piper called out to him.

“Something’s come up, I’m gonna have to leave.”

“Everything okay?”

“It’s fine, Lucy just needs instruction on how to make cookies properly,” she spoke contemptuously, making sure her sister could still hear her voice. She pulled out a soft woollen blanket and a hardcover copy. “I know your mom was a medieval lit professor, so I figured La Morte D’Arthur was as good a gift as any.”

“She’ll love it. But when did—”

“Oh, I’ve bought them ever since I found out that the whole team got to meet her except me. Anyway, um…you’ll be okay, right?” Spencer nodded, smiling.

“You gonna say goodbye?” She nodded in return as Dr Norman joined them and they walked back up to the blonde professor flicking through a book. “Dr. Norman gave me permission to sleep on the couch in your room tonight if it’s all right with you,” Spencer announced softly.

“If anyone tries to keep him in here any longer, I’ll scratch your eyes out,” Diana threatened the doctor and Piper pursed her lips, hiding her smile.

“One night only.” The doctor trudged off and Piper warmly smiled.

“It helps if they think you’re crazy. They don’t argue,” Diana explained.

“Mrs Reid—”

“Diana,” Her tone became almost dangerous.

“Diana, it’s been lovely meeting you, but I have to go and teach my excuse of a sibling how to bake cookies over the phone.” Diana simply nodded, saying a warm goodbye of her own and Piper bounded off to probably yell at Lucy.

That night, Spencer lay sprawled on his mother’s couch with a file draped across his knees. The rest of the team ate their fill of sushi as Rossi complained about his wives. Piper sat in her hotel room, talking with her sister until the wee hours of the night as she fell asleep.


	5. Memoriam

Piper chewed on her lip as Rossi sat, sipping his cappuccino. Derek pulled the bulbous lever next to her, the loud clanging beating Emily’s ears into oblivion. She kept staring at the bright sunlight streaming through the wall to ceiling window onto the potted fern, tapping her foot as Emily stumbled and pleaded with Derek to stop, oblivious to the guffaw emitted by Derek at her hangover. She only woke from her stupor when Emily plopped down next to her, muttering her hate for Vegas. “How could you hate Vegas, Em?” Morgan laughed. “This is a grown folk’s playground.” Piper snickered half-heartedly as JJ and Hotch joined them.

“Where’s Reid?”

“He stayed with his mom last night, but he should be here by now. He knows the departure time and it only takes a few minutes to–” Piper trailed off as she caught the familiar brown, tousled hair bobbing into the hotel. Her eyebrows crossed as he explained he was going to stay in Vegas for a few days to stay with his mom. Emily just shrugged, slipping on her sunglasses as she dragged her bag out to the SUV with JJ. They slipped away, one by one and Piper stood, hand smushed in the back of her jean pocket, teetering on her heels. She watched Reid shrug off JJ’s concern before telling her to take care of the two of them, glancing towards her bulging baby bump. As JJ walked off, Spencer smiled at Piper. “You look like you slept well. No nightmares?”

“Fine. How, uh… how’d those cookies turn out?”

“Let’s just say I hope she finishes them before we get back.” He chuckled but the laugh died in his throat at her grim face.

“Everything cool?”

“You know, you keep trying to hide it even though I can see right through you,” she murmured, and Spencer’s hands travelled to his trouser pocket.

“Pipes, I just– I need to deal with this myself.” Piper nodded.

“You’ll–”

“I’ll call if I need anything.”

"Kay…” They stood there awkwardly until Rossi yelled out for her. “Sorry. Um…take care Spence.” She waved stiffly before walking away, still worried. Spencer watched his team leave and his smile wavered as he left to make his way to the precinct a few miles from his old house. No later had Piper and Rossi seen him drive off, they snuck back into Spencer’s room. As Spencer looked through Riley Jenkins’ records, Piper laid out vending machine snacks and Rossi switched on the Young and the Restless. Spencer balanced the box on his thigh and heard voices through the main door to his hotel room. 

“So, let me get this straight…Yolanda reported Ana as a missing child, so the police took Ana away from Tyra? Even though Tyra’s the legal guardian?”

“Yep.”

“And Katherine’s amnesia means she’s working at the diner? But retrograde amnesia doesn’t work like—”

“What are you guys doing here?” Spencer asked with a raised eyebrow as he glanced between Rossi and Piper sipping soda, plopping down his box of files.

“What does it look like?” Rossi retorted. Spencer snorted as Piper caught a popcorn kernel in her mouth.

“Uh, breaking into my room and watching “Days of Our Lives.”

“Young and the Restless,” he corrected Spencer and Piper shut off the TV.

“Aren’t you meant to be in D.C.?” Spencer sighed exasperatedly.

“You’re supposed to be hanging out with your mom,” Piper pointed out as she got up, brushing off any crumbs onto the floor. She gazed pointedly at the box he’d plopped down. “Riley Jenkins?”

“No, it’s not– that’s actually not why I’m here.”

“Spencer, I did not watch 2 hours of Young and the Restless for you to lie to me. I think my IQ dropped like 7 points.” Rossi smirked as he got up.

“Let us help. Maybe together we can find out who killed him.”

“I think I might already know.” Rossi and Piper glanced at each other before returning to Spencer.

“So, tell us about the suspect.”

“Truth is, I don’t know anything about him. He’s my father.” Piper’s jaw dropped and she glanced between the two male agents as though they were playing in the US Open with significantly minimal movement and groaning. Spencer blinked exactly 5 times before he returned to his bounty box.

Piper licked her lips before she broke the silence. “You need to be sure, Spencer.” Spencer faltered.

“She’s right, some rocks don’t need looking under,” Rossi offered him a way out.

“My mind is sending me signals. I can’t ignore them anymore.”

“Mixed signals. Spence, you know better than anyone how ambiguous the subconscious can be. There’s no solid explanation for these dreams.”

“I’ve come this far; I’m not going back.” Rossi glanced over at Piper who sighed at Spencer’s resolve and picked up a file. They plopped down in different spots, Piper reclining on the mattress belly-down, Rossi in an armchair with his polished shoes resting on the coffee table and Spencer perched on the side table.

“Riley Jenkins,” Rossi stated, “6 years old. His father, Lou Jenkins was supposed to pick him up from t-ball practise at 4. He got delayed at work, prompting Riley to walk the 3 blocks home. When his mother got home in the early evening, she found him dead in the basement.”

“So, the offender came to the house after the boy arrived home,” Piper proposed.

“Or picked him up on the way there. Coaxes Riley into the basement where he sexually assaults him,” Rossi offered instead, and she nodded. Spencer simply stared at the young boy in the red baseball uniform, matching the one his father had once forced him to wear.

“The boy’s mouth was taped shut. Symbolic. The unsub fears Riley will talk, panics, weighs his options… Decides to make certain that he’ll never talk,” Rossi interrupted Spencer’s thoughts.

“He finds a knife in the fishing gear under the stairs, stabs Riley 9 times in the chest, stuffs him behind the washing machine,” Piper outlined.

“So, the unsub’s a white male in his late 20s to early 30s. Means we’re looking for a man in his 50s. Likely knew the boy. Maybe been to his house. Neighbour…” Spencer trailed off.

“Reid? What is it?” Rossi asked, leaning on his knees as he looked to Spencer.

“My family lived less than a half-mile from the Jenkins’.”

“Do you think your dad knew the boy?”

“I don’t know. My memory’s lack of recall just reinforces how little I knew about him.” Piper’s head drooped and she straightened up on the bed.

“We should talk to your mother first, neighbours. Get their impressions,” Piper added as she scooped her hair up away from her face, a small strand dropping from her fingers to adorn the curve of her jaw. They watched him grab his keys and leave.

“He gonna be okay?” Rossi asked, staring at the closing door as Piper started stacking up the files.

“I dunno. This case is personal. I just hope…” her voice trailed, and her hands needed no instruction, working mechanically and methodically to organise the files. “I just hope he isn’t trying to pin this on his father.”

“What do you mean?” She plopped her remaining stack and turned to Rossi.

“His father left him and his mom, Rossi. When he was 6. He hasn’t seen him in almost 20 years. When you’re that young, it’s easy to make your father a villain.”

Spencer was lost in thought as they drove to the Jenkins’. Rossi drove as Piper reviewed the case file. “Hey, Doc, what did your mom say anyway?” she asked, crunching into her apple.

“He liked being around kids. He coached my little league team—”

“You were in Little League? God, Rossi, can you imagine? Mini-Reid with his mini bat. Please tell me there are pictures.” It struck Spencer how she saw the joy in the smallest things. His father could be a paedophile, but she lit up with glee with the notion of him in a baseball uniform as a child, but as she caught his grim face, she realised now wasn’t the time. “Right. Sorry. Was there anything else?”

“Not really. He wanted more kids. My mom preferred just one.”

“Huh. I get it.” Spencer turned around as Rossi kept ignoring the two infants in his SUV.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I can imagine your mom only wants you. Why mess with perfection right?” Piper laughed at Spencer’s raised eyebrow. “Spence, your mom loves you so much. I didn’t expect her to want any more kids.”

“Besides,” Rossi finally interrupted. “You were probably a handful enough on your own.” Piper laughed heartily in the back at Spencer’s pout. But as they exited the vehicle to walk over to Mr Jenkins, a sombre mood descended over them like darkness blanketing a starless sky. Rossi noted the father’s disbelief for their questions, frustration evident as he kept loading boxes into his truck.

“It’s just a theory, Mr Jenkins,” Piper tried placatingly.

“You must be out of your damn minds if you think Will Reid killed my son.”

“So, you were friends?”

“Who the hell are you to come here, asking this?” Spencer placed a hand on Piper’s shoulder as he stepped forward.

“I’m his son.”

“Spencer? Spencer, a G-man? How about that?”

“Was William around your house often?” Piper held back a snicker as she continued questioning.

“The occasional barbecue, that sort of thing.”

“Riley around on these occasions?” Spencer continued.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I need to know.”

“Take it from someone who does know, he was a good man.”

“Thanks for your time,” Piper finished and started back towards the car, stopping when she noticed Reid was still standing there.

“Where is he, these days? My dad?”

“It’s been years, but he’s probably still at that same firm in Summerlin.”

“He’s been in town this whole time?” Spencer’s voice went soft, the pain of 20 years collapsing over him.

“Far as I know.” He nodded before waving and turning back to Piper and Rossi.

“You know Summerlin?” Rossi asked.

“Yeah. It’s like 9 miles east of here. Off the 95.” He started walking, the reality of his past leaning on his back. Rossi looked at Piper quizzically and she filled him in.

“He was 10 minutes away and never let him know.”

^-^

The three agents walked up to the golden reception desk, Spencer leading but as he tried to speak, his voice died in his throat. As such, Rossi spoke up instead, asking for William Reid. Stammering, the young doctor asked to be excused and rushed off to the men's room. “I’ve never seen him like this before.”

“17 years is a long time to go between visits,” Piper remarked mirthlessly.

“Not long enough. The kid’s still angry.”

“Yeah…” She glanced at Rossi, then rushed over after him.

Outside the men's room, Piper waited, smiling awkwardly at employees walking past her. She breathed a sigh of relief when a familiar dark, tousled head of hair popped out of the room behind her. “Why are you doing this?” She crossed her arms across her chest, jutting out her chin slightly.

“Doing what?’

“Don’t act dumb. Why are we here? Why are you _so_ intent on making your father the villain here?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” He shifted from foot to foot.

“Tough. You’re gonna have to. I’m done being nice about this. Doctor Spencer Walter Reid, what am I doing here?”

“Do we have to do this now?”

“Spencer, you haven’t seen the guy in 17 years, I get it. That doesn’t make him a paedophile.” Piper tried to keep her voice measured and controlled. “I just don’t want to see you in pain.”

“I can’t help it. I have to know he didn’t do it.”

“No.” She sighed. “You want to know that he did do it. Because the real Spencer Reid, the one with 3 PhDs and an IQ of 187, wouldn’t rely on something as inconsequential as a dream to incriminate someone, especially his father.” She glared him down until Rossi called for them.

^-^

In the picturesque office, the three agents were spread out. Piper almost snorted at the psychological irony of their positions. Rossi reclined on the dark leather couch, gauging his colleague’s father. _Professional._ Piper stood in the corner next to the bookshelf, feet shoulder length apart. _Protector._ Spencer stood near the door; arms crossed. _Prudent._ “You don’t look like me anymore. You used to. Everybody said so.” Spencer practically snorted at his father’s pathetic attempt at small talk.

“They say some people look like their dogs, too. It’s attributed to prolonged mutual exposure. Elderly couples, also. They unconsciously mimic the expressions of people they’ve been around their whole life. So, it kind of– kind of makes sense that I wouldn’t really look like you. I haven’t seen you in 20 years.” Piper raised her eyebrows in second-hand embarrassment for William, who was struck dumb.

“So, are you in town on work?”

“We’re just wrapping up a case. A 5-year-old boy was abducted and murdered.”

“I read about that. Uh, Ethan Hayes, right? That’s terrible.”

“That case got me thinking about Riley Jenkins. You remember Riley Jenkins?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve been having dreams about him for a really long time. But when we came back here for this case, it jogged something, and the dream changed. I saw his killer and he was you.”

“Interesting dream,” Rossi smirked at the remark.

“You don’t seem all that surprised,” he remarked.

“I stopped being surprised by Spencer’s mind a long time ago.”

“There are certain criteria we consider when looking at this type of suspect,” Piper explained. “You fit parts of that profile.”

“Me?”

“We just want your cooperation,” Piper held her palms up, signalling surrender.

“My cooperat– You’re not actually saying you think I killed Riley?”

“We didn’t say that.”

“Good, ‘cause that’s absurd.”

“We’d just like permission to look through your computer, access your records.”

“And what would you be looking for exactly?” The three agents remained silent. “You want access to my files? Get a warrant.” He ushered them out before slamming the door behind him, and Piper ran a hand through her hair as Spencer walked straight past her down to the SUVs, already on a call with Garcia. Rossi simply sighed, following the young agent. Piper glanced back at the closed door behind her, weighing her options. Damning the doubts in her mind, she called out to Rossi, saying she’d meet them at the hotel later, before knocking on the door again. It flung open on the third rap and William’s eyes glared back at her.

“May we have a private conversation? Without the other agents?” Grumpily, he nodded, giving her access to the room. He moved over to the desk, motioning for her to sit.

“You have 10 minutes. What do you want?”

“I want to know why you left.”

“Excuse me?”

“Look, I don’t know everything about your relationship with Spencer, but I do know that at one point he cared about you. Deeply. Unquestioningly. He loved you. I don’t doubt that he doesn’t still want you around. But he’s like family to me. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to know why you left them.” The man sniffed.

“Have you met his mother?”

“Diana? Yes.”

“So, you’ll understand that living with her was difficult?”

“I don’t doubt it was, sir. But if I could ask you this, if you, a grown and accomplished man, couldn’t live with a paranoid schizophrenic, how could you expect a 6-year-old to?” His voice drained.

“I didn’t know how to take care of him anymore.” Piper nodded, absorbing this.

“And you’re still firm on your decision about not letting us see your files?” His face hardened.

“Yes.” She nodded again, getting up from her seat. She halted halfway to the door and turned around.

“Do you still care about him?” He just smiled softly.

“Always.”

Spencer pushed the door to his hotel room open, briefly glimpsing the large yellow envelope that fell to the floor. He grabbed at the envelope, reading the small note pinned to it by a small silver paper clip. _You’re looking at the wrong guy._ Groaning, he clutched the envelope and ran down to the hotel lobby to Piper and Rossi.

“Was the envelope dropped off at the front desk first?” Piper asked, almost reaching her hand out to touch his arm. Almost.

“Nope, it went straight to my room.”

“So, they knew what room you were in. The timing of this is a little suspicious,” Rossi pointed out, perusing the file.

“Yeah. An hour after I see my father, we’re handed another suspect.”

“You think you knew this guy?”

“I don’t know. I think so, but I’m not sure. I–I–no, I don’t know.”

“Exposed himself to a minor," Piper pointed out. "That’s a precursor to molestation.”

“And murder. I’ll get Garcia to take a closer look at this guy.” Rossi's cell buzzed.

“Speak of the angel,” Rossi smirked. “What have you got?”

_“Reid, we’ve been all up in your father’s business.”_

“What did you find?”

_“Well, let me tell you first what I did not find. No kiddie porn, no membership to illicit websites, no dubious emails, no chat room history.”_

“What about his finances?”

_“We went back 10 years. No questionable transactions that we can find apart from a ticket to see Celine Dion 6 months ago. But I think we can overlook that.”_

“He’s smart. Is it possible he kept things under the table?”

_“Well, of course. But from what I can tell, Reid, he doesn’t fit the profile. I can tell you other things about him, if you want to know. He’s a workaholic, he actually logs more hours than we do. He makes decent money, but he doesn’t spend a lot of it. He has a modest house. He drives a hybrid. He doesn’t travel much. He stays away from the casinos. Um, and according to his veterinary bills, he has a very sick cat. He appears to spend most of his free time alone, he goes to the movies a lot, and he reads. And from his collection of first editions, it seems his favourite author is—”_

“Isaac Asimov, I remember that one.”

_“He does have one other major interest. On his home computer, he’s archived, like, a kajillion things on one common subject.”_

“What?”

_“You, kiddo. He’s got, like, everything that’s been published online. Every article you’ve been quoted in, pieces you’ve written for behavioural science journals, he even has a copy of your dissertation. He’s keeping tabs on you. That’s saying something.”_

“Yeah, he googled me. That makes up for everything. I’m going to get some air.” He shoved the cell into Piper’s hands and left the lobby. Piper just sighed.

_“I thought we were giving him good news.”_

“So did I,” Piper murmured.

_“What else can we do?”_

“Look up a name for us, if you would. Gary Brendan Michaels.”

_“You like this guy for the Riley murder?”_

“Somebody does. They sent us his file.” Piper and Rossi glanced at each other as she flipped the cell shut. “I’ll go and talk some sense into him.”

Piper shrugged and traced Spencer’s footsteps, stopping at the sight of a young blonde flirting with the tall doctor. She felt a strange pit in her stomach as she watched them talk. _Uneasiness_. She stood there awkwardly as the two talked in front of her and glanced back at Rossi still in the lobby. As though something possessed her, she launched forward.

“Tell you what, I’ll put mine out if you buy me a drink,” the blonde offered as she leaned into Spencer.

“Sorry, he’s on duty,” Piper intervened. “Spencer?” Almost as though he was in a trance, he got up slowly, walking with Piper towards the exit. “I know that look. Pursed lips, knotted eyebrows, must have been some conversation. What’s going on up there?” He just licked his lips as they approached Rossi.

“I think I know how to rekindle my childhood memories.”

^-^

Spencer lay on the bed as Piper gripped his hand. “You know, I haven’t done this in a long time.”

“How long?” Rossi asked from behind them.

“Like 2 and a half years. I mean, I’ve only ever done it a few times.”

“You have certification, Pipes. You’ll be fine. We don’t have time for a professional,” Rossi encouraged her.

“I can’t promise the memories will be accurate. You know the limitations of hypnotherapy, especially the power of suggestion,” she frowned.

“I know. You can do this.” She took a deep breath. _For Spencer._

“Okay. Close your eyes and listen to my voice. Relax, Spencer. Think of home. How do you feel?”

“Okay. I feel…ready.” Piper glanced back at Rossi worriedly.

“If you feel any fear, I want you to squeeze, do you understand?” Spencer nodded. “Focus on my voice. You’re at home, tucked into bed in your favourite pyjamas. You should be asleep, but you keep hearing your parents arguing. Do you hear it?”

“He’s coming in. My dad.”

“What’s he doing, Spencer?” She felt him squeeze softly.

“He…He says he loves me…I don’t want to be here…”

“It’s okay, Spencer. We’re here. Listen to my voice. Take us to where the light is. To the next morning. The sun is coming up. Where are you, Spencer?”

“Outside. My mom, she’s at the window… She’s been crying. She saw him.” Piper’s face paled.

“Who? Your father? Do you talk to her?”

“No. No, I wanna– I wanna see…” She grimaced as Spencer’s grip tightened on her wrist. Her injury flared as she tried to regain control.

“What is it, Spencer?” Rossi rushed over.

“Wake him up. Wake him up now.” He hissed.

“Damn it. I’m going to count backward from 5. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and wake.” Spencer lurched upwards, still gripping her wrist and Rossi latched onto him, murmuring condolences in his ear. Piper slowly unwrapped Spencer’s grip and rubbed her wrist gently.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry,” he murmured as Piper walked over to the bathroom. She washed her wrist in freezing water from the faucet before splashing her face. She took a deep breath, dried her face and stepped back outside. “You okay?”

“M fine. You?” He just nodded. “You remember anything?”

“Yeah. My dad.” Spencer rubbed his face, the bags under his eyes more prominent. “He was burning clothes with…” He took a deep breath as Piper moved closer to the two agents. “They had blood on them.” He rubbed his eyes a little and got up, about to start pacing until he announced, “I need to see my mom.” As he left the hotel room, Rossi motioned for Piper to go after him. Grabbing her blazer from the couch, she rushed after him, following him into the SUV.

Piper sat quietly on the couch as Spencer questioned Mrs Reid softly. “Try to remember, Mom,” he kept repeating softly as his mother protested. Piper noticed how Spencer kept pacing, how Diana pulled her cardigan around her torso, how Spencer's voice started to gain gravity as he urged his mother to remember. “This wasn’t a dream. It was a memory, and I saw you. You saw Dad burn the bloody clothes.” Piper stood up but he wouldn’t let her get a word in edgewise. She stepped back as Diana grasped Spencer’s head gently.

“Ugh, your mind. Such a treasure. Even as a baby, you knew things you weren’t supposed to know.”

“This isn’t about me, Mom. This is about Riley Jenkins.”

“It was always about you,” she murmured softly, letting go. Piper intervened.

“Mrs Reid, please.” She guided his mother to the bed, rubbing circles on her hand. “Riley Jenkins. Please remember.”

“Riley…” she murmured, “Riley was real. Poor Riley.”

“What happened to Riley, Diana?”

“I-no, I don’t know. I don’t know,” she repeated softly.

“It’s okay, Diana. Be gentle. What happened to Riley?” Piper kept rubbing as Spencer paced behind her.

“Riley’s dead. Poor Riley,” she murmured, and Piper looked back at Spencer helplessly. Getting up, she pulled him aside.

“I think we should get a nurse in here and show her a picture of what happened to Riley.”

“Piper—"

“I’m aware of the risks, Spencer, but we need to kickstart her memories. She said it was always about you, Spence. What do _you_ think that means?” Spencer’s face morphed from hostility to childlike wonder. He looked back at his trembling mother. “Do you think she can handle it?” Spencer nodded and turned to get a file out as Piper called in a nurse and explained their plan. She watched intensely as Spencer showed Diana the picture of the little battered boy and she cried out.

“No. No. No.” With every repetition, her voice soared in pitch and she got up. “No. I’m not—I’m not supposed to tell you. No. NO!” she yelled, slapping herself when the nurse launched forward as released the sedative in her veins. Piper rubbed her shoulder, silently cursing herself, staring at the disquieting scene unfolding in front of her.

“This was a bad idea,” she murmured to Spencer as she leant back against the wall, but he’d already moved to her side, listening carefully.

“It could have been you,” Diana murmured, her hair dishevelled, breathing becoming steadier. Piper left the mother and son inside and tapped her foot as she replayed what had happened inside. _Jesus, Piper, you have to be that stupid? You really showed a paranoid schizophrenic a photo of a dead kid? Good going._ As she bounced the back of her head on the brick wall of the sanitarium, a tousled head popped up next to her.

“Spence, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” He walked past her, but she tugged on his sleeve.

“You’re right to be mad. I shouldn’t have—”

“No. You shouldn’t have,” he spat. Piper recoiled at the bitter venom.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“No, she was just magically supposed to remember everything.” Her words died in her throat and she blinked through the tears welling up in her eyes. Nodding, she meekly followed Spencer to the SUV. The car ride was silent, and she couldn’t find her voice until they got out of the SUV to head into the precinct.

“So, how is she?”

“Better.” They walked a few paces before he continued. “She said it could have been me.”

“Spencer, no. You don’t think—”

“It makes sense. I don’t need to tell you this is textbook. Father reroutes compulsion to molest away from his own son to a surrogate.”

“He wouldn’t do that. We met him, Spencer. I talked to him.”

“Yeah, we all did. But you don’t know him.” Taking a deep breath, hoping she wasn’t digging a deeper hole, she pulled him back from the steps of the precinct.

“I know what a bad father’s like.” She stared into the fire blazing behind his dark brown eyes. “Mine didn’t leave. I had to _live_ with one. Trust me, he thought he was doing what was best for you.” He pulled his arm away and scoffed.

“Yeah, well. We saw what happened the last time I trusted you.” He turned to go up the steps, only to see Mr Jenkins going down the steps with a file in his hands. “What’s he doing here?” Spencer glanced back at Piper who narrowed her eyes at the other man before running up the steps to find Rossi.

^-^

As Piper scrubbed her face in the bathroom, staring at her reflection, Rossi and Reid talked to the former lead detective. “Look… Why don’t you just head back over to the fountain view and have a couple of drinks by the pool and think about this.”

“I have thought about this,” Spencer remarked bitterly.

“The guy’s your father.”

“What’s your point, detective?” He narrowed his eyes at the balding man.

“Maybe you’re here to work out some other issues?”

“Look, Detective. We’d really appreciate it if you helped us out with this. We just want the guy on the defensive,” Rossi reasoned, stepping in before things got ugly with the kid. The detective relented, giving them 24 hours and Spencer stormed out, slamming the door on its hinges. He sidestepped Piper, ignoring her sunken face, out into the fresh air. She shot Rossi a curious look.

“Don’t ask. News?”

“Yeah. Gary Michaels is starting to look more and more like our guy. Well, that’s if Garcia could find him.”

“What’s that mean?”

“She can’t find him.”

“Piper, Garcia can hack into the FBI, you’re telling me she can’t find our suspect?”

“There’s no record of him after the murder. Probably didn’t want to stick around for the investigation. Apart from the indecent exposure, he also had some lewd behaviour, trespassing at a nursery school… The guy’s sick but smart enough to change his name.”

“Any way to find him?”

“They have his DNA from the exposure charge, Garcia’s running it through VICAP and CODIS. Also, JJ may be in labour, they’re taking her to the hospital now."

“Okay, good. Wait, now? But she isn’t due—”

“Guess the baby doesn’t wanna wait 3 weeks. So, he still wants to bring in his dad for questioning?”

“He needs to know. But, uh… he’s been saying that a lot lately.” Piper sighed.

“Rossi, I think—no, I know I made a mistake.” He guided her to a seat, and she tapped her foot on the linoleum floor. “I thought that showing Diana a picture of Riley would, I guess, kickstart her memory. But it just triggered her. She was convulsing, Rossi. Slapping herself.”

“Hey, I get it. You made a call. There are no 100% right decisions in this job.”

“I risked her life. I made that call. I put her in—” Piper’s voice broke and she stared at the ceiling, trying to force her tears down. “I put her at risk,” she sniffled. “He won’t forgive me for that.”

“That will come naturally, Piper. The real question should be, do you forgive yourself?” Piper shook her head, then left her seat, claiming she needed some air. Rossi rubbed his face, letting out a big sigh. “I don’t get paid enough for this,” he murmured.

^-^

Piper entered the interrogation room where Rossi stood, watching the Reids in the adjacent room. “He’s not gonna stop, is he?”

“He needs to know. How’s JJ?”

“Fine, Hotch called me a few minutes ago. Said they were checking her in now. They also got a ping back from CODIS. Let’s get him out of there.” When Spencer re-entered the room, Piper explained what Hotch had dug up.

“He’s dead?”

“They found parts of Gary Michaels in the desert in California when some new construction broke ground. Whoever killed him was smart enough to bury him across state lines. Vegas P.D. never made the connection. That’s not even the worst of it. Judging from the fractures, they think he was beaten with something. A pipe, maybe. Or a bat. Sound familiar?”

“Maybe it wasn’t Riley’s blood on those clothes my dad was burning…” Spencer trailed off and Rossi groaned.

“I know that look and I am not driving,” he grimaced, tossing the keys to Spencer.

^-^

Piper took up her usual spot in the back with a book as Rossi flicked between stations. “Jesus, Rossi. Just pick a station and leave it alone.” He tried to glare at the young woman, but she simply flicked a paper ball at his face, laughing as it bounced back at her.

“You remind me of my ex-wife.”

“Really? Which one?”

“My last one.”

“Oh, your twelfth wife?” she snickered, and Rossi pinched the bridge of his nose.

“How many times do I have to—I only got married three times!” Even Spencer managed a small smile at that.

“We know,” Spencer explained. “You’re just funny when you’re angry.” Piper smiled goofily at them, glad that Spencer was back to normal, even if it was only an ephemeral moment.

^-^

The three sat in perfect fashion; Reid on the spinny chair, looking over case files, Rossi reclining on the couch and Piper staring out the window. “You think we should be looking into this anyway?” Rossi and Reid glanced up at her. “The man attacked and abused a 6-year-old. Sounds like he got what he deserved.” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

“She’s right, kid. We don’t have to run this print,” Rossi tossed the file in his hand on the table.

“Course we do. Whatever Michaels did, he deserved a fair trial.” Piper snorted derisively.

“You got what you wanted Spencer.” Piper moved over to the couch, closer to the two other agents. “You wanted to know if your father killed Riley. He didn’t. You got what you needed.”

“What I need is the truth.” Spencer slammed his hand on the table and Rossi looked between the two like a deer caught in headlights.

“No, what you need is to let this go. Whoever killed Michaels, I don’t blame them. Can you?”

“That’s not justice.”

“Screw justice, Reid. You don’t care about _justice_ ,” she spat, looking at him levelly. “You’re just determined to nail him, aren’t you? Doesn’t even matter what for.”

“If you don’t want to run it, I will,” he said coolly. Piper straightened, looking at Rossi who remained silent. Biting her cheek, Piper weighed her options. But taking one look at Spencer’s face, there was no other option.

“Fine.” She grabbed her blazer and purse before walking out to clear her head and grab some coffee.

^-^

Spencer, Piper and Rossi waited in the hotel lobby for a call from Agent Todd who was now filling in for JJ. Piper sat on the black leather couch, tapping out a rhythm on her cup of coffee. Rossi’s cell buzzed and Spencer stopped pacing immediately. “You’re 100 per cent certain? Okay… Thank you.” Rossi looked back at the two agents, unsure of whether the news was good or bad. “They found a match. It wasn’t your dad’s.” He hesitated. “It’s Mr Jenkins.” Piper simply sighed and left for the SUV outside. They drove out to the construction site and she watched as Rossi handcuffed Mr Jenkins and took him back to the station. Methodically and efficiently, they tied up the loose ends of the case as Spencer talked out the events of the case with his parents and Rossi extracted the confession from Mr Jenkins while Piper packed up, carefully tagging evidence and piling case files. The flight home was equally silent as they switched off for a long-needed rest, only waking for the landing and their arrival at the city hospital. Piper trudged over sleepily over to Garcia, giving her a brief hug and gasping very softly at the beautiful boy wrapped up in a blue blanket.

“Will, he looks just like you,” she cooed.

“That’s what I said,” Penelope whispered back as Will chuckled.

“Let’s hope he grows out of that.”

“As long as he doesn’t inherit the accent,” Emily joked, wincing as Piper elbowed her, chuckling. Spencer entered behind Hotch, giving his congratulations to Will. JJ gave Will a look, which clearly meant something to him as he asked everyone for a cup of coffee. As they left, Spencer stepped forward to JJ, unable to stop the smile spreading on his face.

“How is it that I just went through 15 hours of labour and you look worse than I do?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You look beautiful.” She chuckled, adjusting her hold on her little boy.

“Spence, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“Will and I were talking, and, um… We want you to be Henry’s godfather.”

“I don’t even know– I don’t know–” he stammered.

“Here, do you want to hold him?”

“Hello, Henry,” he cooed despite himself.

“If anything should happen us, it’s up to you and Garcia to make sure this boy gets into Yale.”

“Yale. Do you want to go to Yale, Henry? That was your godfather’s safety school,” he murmured to the softly sleeping child. “Don’t worry, I can get you into Cal-Tech with one phone call.” Piper chuckled as Garcia entered holding two cups of coffee for them, taking Henry into her arms. As the two blondes talked about Henry’s future, Spencer went to find his closest friend who was near the coffee machine laughing with Will.

“But she was trying so hard to tie her shoelaces, and she was only about 5 years old. It took me half an hour to coax her out from under the table,” Piper told him and he chuckled as Spencer approached the two. Will thanked Spencer for accepting his position as godfather, his confidence in the doctor beaming through his albeit tired smile. Will excused himself from the conversation to check on his girlfriend and child. “So godfather huh?” Piper murmured as she sipped on her terrible coffee and Spencer grinned.

“You look ready to sleep.”

“I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t hogged the couch,” she scoffed, and Spencer held his hands up in mock surrender.

“Listen, about before. I’m uh… I’m sorry for being umm…”

“Passive-aggressive?” she supplied. “Don’t be. I was mad at myself for doing that stupid thing. I can’t blame you,” she said, handing him a cup of coffee. “I’m just happy you found your family." They smiled at each other like two blissful idiots until Garcia pulled them in for a group picture in JJ’s room.


End file.
